Autumn is one big weather potpourri—
It’s hot, it’s
cold, it’s beautiful, it’s sucky.
We put up with its worst days patiently
And will survive
its best days (if we’re lucky).
September’s cold and then it’s ninety-five.
October has two
fouls for every fair.
November’s brisk and makes you feel alive,
Then kills you
with a blast of arctic air.
We take our shades off and put layers on
As colors are all
bleached out of the city.
Leaves go from green to gold to brown to gone.
Dying has never
looked so bright and pretty.
Fall is the
season where both life and death
Are mingled in
a single city breath.
Copyright 2014 Matthew J Wells
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